That Crazy Little Thing
by freeze1
Summary: "As the residential love expert, Sora figures she ought to have a stronger grasp on the emotion." Sora comes to a sudden realization about Taichi. It's frustrating. Taiora.


As the residential love expert, Sora figures she ought to have a stronger grasp on the emotion. When her first love turns out to be, err, not so much love after all, she thinks to herself: well, this is embarrassing. The break with Yamato is clean, uncomplicated; they settle back into friendship with ease and Sora, relieved, decides to take some time off from this whole "love" thing.

So she does. For a little while.

It's a chilly Saturday in late October and the whole gang is in for the night watching a marathon of dubbed Korean horror movies (Taichi's choice). Everyone tolerates the first one, but when it becomes clear that Taichi has every intention of seeing the marathon through to the finish people clear out fast. What starts as a group event quickly devolves into Taichi and Sora at opposite ends of the Yagami's couch with Jyou, exhausted from a week of exams, passed out on the floor in front of them.

Sora, who loves a good bad movie, is just barely on board with this five-part series that involves far too much eyeball-gouging for her taste. But Taichi's clearly having a blast, yelling at the screen and clapping everytime someone dies in a particularly grotesque way, so she doesn't complain. She just spreads her science textbook across her legs and splits focus between the brain-eating fish monsters and the periodic table of elements.

They're halfway through film number four when Taichi gets up to make a snack. Sora's so engrossed in trying to memorize the names of the noble gasses that she barely notices he's left the room until he's shoving something under her nose: a teacup full of popcorn with a small handful of chocolate chips melted on top. Her favorite. She doesn't even remember telling him that.

_I love you_, she thinks, out of the blue. It's ridiculous and unwarranted and she almost laughs out loud at the absurdity of the thought. But once she's introduced herself to the concept, she can't unthink it: the unspoken words dangle in the air in front of her and all of a sudden she's having trouble breathing.

"Oh," she chokes. "Thanks."

"Eat," he instructs, leaping over the back of the couch. "The chocolate's only gonna stay melty for so long." He's made himself a batch of egg yolk-yellow popcorn so big it'll only fit in a salad bowl. He proceeds to eat it by the handful, eyes transfixed on the screen so that he keeps missing his mouth causing popcorn to cascade down the front of his t-shirt.

Sora watches him, dumbfounded. She tests the thought again.

_I. Love. ...You._

"Taichi," she starts, closing her textbook with an authoritative slam, but at this moment Jyou, who has been virtually catatonic on the floor for the past two hours, suddenly springs to life.

"What TIME is it?" He squacks. "Why did you let me oversleep? I'll be late for the test!"

Taichi barely glances away from the screen. "It's the weekend, Senpai."

"Oh," Jyou says, looking very much relieved. "Well in that case, can I have some of that popcorn?"

Sora excuses herself a few minutes later with mumbles about an early tennis match the next morning and curses her nerves the whole walk home.

* * *

Sora calls Mimi the next day to share the news. Although, it turns out it isn't really news.

"What do you mean, you KNEW?" Sora asks.

"Darling, I've known for ages. You've always loved Taichi."

"I dated his best friend for the better part of a year," Sora points out.

"Mm, well that was misguided."

Sora fumes into the phone, launching into a sleep deprivation-induced tirade about how strongly she had felt for Yamato, how close they had been, how they had (very maturely!) realized at the end of the day that they wanted different things and were better off as friends than as boyfriend and girlfriend. She ignores the part about how it had never felt quite right with him, the unadulterated relief she had felt when he suggested they go back to being friends.

Mimi listens patiently, clearly attempting to stifle her laughter. "Well, yeah," she says when Sora lets her get a word in edgewise. "Of course you were better off as friends. Because you love Taichi."

"No, I don't."

"You just said you did."

"I'm taking it back."

"You can't take it back."

"Can too."

"Sora," Mimi says in her saccharine, oh-you-poor-child-you'll-never-understand voice. "I know this is hard. But you've got to toughen up a bit."

"He's my best friend, Mimi," Sora whispers. She's glad that Mimi isn't here to see her lip quiver. From her bed, she can see that damned hair clip glinting in the sunlight from where it sits on her dresser. For one horrifying moment, she thinks she might cry, which is infuriating. Taichi has always had a talent for bringing her to the verge of tears.

"Ahem."

"After you, Meems."

"That's more like it."

* * *

She spends all Sunday thinking about it, weighing the options, and wakes up Monday morning resolved: she's going to tell him. Though really, it's not so much choice as it is necessity; she's told Mimi, so it's only a matter of time before Taichi finds out anyways. She might as well head things off.

She waits by his locker after school, hoping to catch him before he heads to soccer practice. She's spent all day trying to plan out what she's going to say, but her mind remains frustratingly blank. She's just about made peace with the fact that she's going to have to act on instinct when he rounds the corner, his tie loose and his eyebrows raised, and her instincts fail her entirely.

"Sora!" He grins. He's surprised, but, she can tell, pleased to see her. "What are you doing here? Don't you have to be at the store today?"

Sora, who had (of course) completely forgotten about her afternoon shift, freezes. She can't have this conversation in the ten minutes before her mother is expecting her at the store. But she can't seem to think of anything else to say. So she just stands, utterly mute and dumbfounded by her inability to function like the semi-intelligent person she always thought herself to be.

"Er, Sora?" Taichi asks. He waves a hand in front of her face. "You in there?"

Oh, this is just _mortifying_.

"I, um. Yes? Sorry." She hears herself saying the words as though detached from her body; her voice sounds squeaky, not her own. She can see Taichi's smile falter as he leans in a bit closer.

"You okay?" He asks. And how he's just a little too close, peering into her eyes like he's trying to check her for brain damage, and she thinks her knees might buckle. She debates the merits of blurting out a quick "I LOVE YOU" and then dashing away before he has the chance to respond. But then there's a shuffling of feet and Yamato rounds the corner and that's the last straw.

"I have to go," Sora says, stumbling backwards. This was a horrible idea. "I'll see you later? Okay, bye!"

She takes off at a half-run.

* * *

After dinner, Sora locks herself in her room with her headphones and a Japanese paper that isn't due for two weeks to distract her. When her mother knocks to say she has a phone call, her heart plunges straight into her gut.

Thankfully, it's only Mimi.

"So you're sick, huh?" Mimi says, by way of hello.

"What?"

"Apparently you were acting funny at school today? You looked pale?"

Sora groans. "What, did Taichi tell you that?"

"Yeah. Well, no. Taichi was talking about it with Yamato at his house and Hikari overheard. She told me."

"But why would..." Sora pauses. She takes a deep breath. "You told Hikari, didn't you."

"About what?"

"You know..."

"Sora," Mimi says, very matter-of-factly, "you need to be able to say it to me if you're _ever_ going to say it to him."

"You told her that I love Taichi!" It starts as a shout but ends as a whisper.

"You never told me not to," Mimi says.

"I assumed that if I did, you wouldn't listen!"

"Well _that's_ rude. If you'd told me not to tell, I wouldn't have told! But you didn't, and Hikari is his _sister_ so I thought she might be a valuable asset."

This stops Sora cold. "An asset?"

"I thought she might some inside information. After all, who knows Taichi better than Hikari?"

Sora grips the phone hard; the plastic groans against her knuckles. It's true, of course: Hikari knows Taichi better than he knows himself. Of course she'd know how he would respond, if...

"I've gotta run, I'll talk to you later Meems," she blurts before ending the call and pitching the phone forward as though it were on fire. All of a sudden it's real and tangible and out there in the universe, impossible to take back and hide away in the name of keeping-things-as-they-are. Too many people know, now, for her to back off quietly.

Not that Hikari will say anything, of course. Ever polite, she'll just smile at Sora with those doeish, sympathetic eyes and Sora will have to stop spending time with her to avoid the pity.

And she can't just ignore Hikari, because beyond the fact that doing so would break her heart, it would also make Taichi suspicious. And he would ask her what was wrong, and (curse her inability to lie) she would crack under the pressure and tell him, and...

Sora deflates against the wall, resigned to her fate. She'll have to tell him after all. And soon.

* * *

She climbs into bed resolved to catch him before school the next day, but sleep eludes her. When she finally rolls over to see the clock flash "1:09" she shoots out of bed with the sort of blind determination only insomnia can foster. She flirts with the idea of changing clothes, running her fingers over the hem of a never-worn sundress from the back of her closet, but quickly dismisses the notion and grabs a sweatshirt instead. This is going to be horrible enough as it is, so she might as well do it in pajamas.

Mimi would be appalled. The thought makes her smile.

She powerwalks the whole way, thinking she ought to plot out what she's about to say. But her mind remains impossibly blank so she gives up, relishing in the few brief moments of mental peace. Jittery, she takes the stairs at the Yagami's apartment complex two at a time and when she gets to the door, it takes a few tries to send the text message because her hands are shaking.

_I'm outside. Can we talk?_

Just when she's starting to wonder if this has all been a colossal waste of time, the door creaks open and Taichi squints out at her. He blinks in groggy disbelief.

"Sora?"

"Hi," she says. "It's, um. Late. Sorry about that."

Taichi has angry red lines criscrossing his face from his pillow and his hair looks like someone took a jackhammer to a birdsnest. She's about to tell him so but bites her lip, reminding herself of her old floral pajama bottoms and bunny-shaped slippers. She's not exactly the picture of dainty slumber herself.

She takes a deep breath. "Could you come out here for a minute?"

Taichi stays put, rubbing at his eyes. "What? I...Sora, what time is it?"

"I'm not sure," she answers, honestly. "Two?"

"Two?" He pauses, lets that information sink in, and then straightens. All of a sudden alert, he steps out into dim light of the hallway. "Sora, what is it? Are you okay?"

His eyes bear down on her, wide and urgent, and she sees the way his fists clench at his sides as though he wants to reach out to her but is holding himself back. Her heart breaks a little, then, for how thoughtlessly selfish she has been. Of course he's worried; as the leader, he's been shaken awake countless times in the middle of the night and never for a cheerful reason.

"Yes," she says. "Well, no, not exactly. I mean, no, I'm fine, it's just..."

Taichi's inching closer, clearly not at all reassurred by her stuttering. She gives up.

"I love you," she says.

Silence.

"You dumbass," she adds, for good measure.

Taichi has stopped dead in his tracks. She studies his face, attempting to gauge his reaction, but nothing registers: he's a blank slate. So she waits. And waits.

"It's not a big deal," she says, finally, barely able to hear her own words over the sound of her heart hammering against her ribcage. "I just...I figured I should at least tell you, so that-"

"Tell me what?" Taichi interrupts.

She frowns. "You know what. I just said it."

"I didn't hear it."

"You did too."

"Well, say it again, then."

"I _just_ said it. Why do you need me to say it again?"

"Because!"

"Oh, that's mature."

"When have I ever given you the impression that I'm mature?"

Sora wrinkes her nose. "Never. But I thought that maybe when we're having a _serious_ conversation about _serious_ things, you would rise to the challenge."

Taichi rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond, but stops. He stares at her for an impossibly long moment, eyes narrowed, before asking: "Are you wearing my sweatshirt?"

"That's it," Sora growls. "I'm going home."

"No, really. I forgot I'd loaned that to you. I've been giving Hikari crap all week about losing it. How long have you had it?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Taichi." She turns to leave, furious at herself for thinking this would go any different, but he catches her wrist after two strides. She's about to tell him to lay off, to just go back to sleep, but when she looks back he's staring at his feet, suddenly timid, and her words die in her throat.

"What?" She asks. His shoulders crumple; he still won't meet her eyes.

"It's just..." he says, voice small, "it's hard to believe."

Her heart falls. What, because she argues with him? Because she dated his best friend what seems like an eternity ago? Because she clearly doesn't have the handle on this "love" thing after all?

"Why?" She whispers.

"Because," he mutters, shifting his grip down her wrist and slowly, carefully lacing her fingers with hers. He glances up, grins shyly, and Sora's breath catches.

"Oh," she says.

"Yeah."

They stand there for a moment in silence. Sora stares down at their hands, cheeks quivering as she tries to keep control over the smile threatening to burst across her face. But when she looks up, Taichi's smiling too, wide and unabashed, and she gives in.

"So," he says, swaying their clasped hands from side to side. "This is...for real, huh?"

"Yep."

"You can keep the sweatshirt."

"I was planning to."

It occurs to Sora, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she never really considered what might happen after telling him. That he might feel the same way. That there might be a whole new slew of decisions to consider, routines to adapt to, awkward and terrifying and wonderful experiences to be had. The sudden rush of possibilities is staggering. She readies herself to start in on all the questions clouding her mind: what should they call each other? Are they going on actual dates? How will they explain it to everyone?

She yawns instead.

Taichi laughs. "You should get to sleep. Don't you have an exam tomorrow?"

"No, but you do."

"I do?"

"Math."

"Oh, right. Well, then, _I_ should get to sleep. You want me to walk you home?" Under normal circumstances she would brush off the offer; Taichi knows perfectly well that she can take care of herself. But she holds it in. His uncharacteristic attempt at chivalry just makes her beam even wider.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. I'll see you in school tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Hey, how about I walk you to school?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Taichi, we've been walking to school together for years."

"Yeah, but tomorrow I'll come and get you at your place. I'll carry your books."

She snorts. "Really. You're going to carry my books."

"I'm going to carry the hell out of those books," he proclaims, squeezing her hand even tighter. She laughs.

"Okay, then. It's a plan. Goodnight, Taichi."

"Goodnight, Sora," he says. But he doesn't move. He just stands there, grinning like a fool until, blushing scarlet, she finally has to wrench her hand away and shove him back inside.

She actually skips a bit on her walk home.

* * *

Her phone rings the next morning as she's brushing her teeth: Mimi. She should have guessed.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," Mimi says without so much as a hello. Sora, who has decided she does not function well on two hours of sleep, blinks.

"What happened yesterday?"

"You know, when I told Hikari about you and Taichi? I was trying to help, but I get that you might not have taken it that way."

"Oh, that," Sora says. "Yeah. Well, I..."

"Not that you need my help getting a guy, of course," Mimi continues. "I mean, you're completely gorgeous and everything, but you _can_ be sort of shy and I just don't want you get too trapped in your own head."

"It's fine, Mimi. Really. Actually-"

"Plus I've been waiting for you to pick up on this for, like, _ages_. I got a little carried away. It's just that you two can be so frustrating-"

The doorbell rings and Sora feels that same smile from the night before start to creep up the corners of her lips.

"Mimi," she interrupts. "I forgive you. Really. But I actually have to go now: Taichi's at the door."

There's a brief silence. Then: "He's at the door?"

"Yes."

"_Your_ door?"

"Yes. He's going to carry my books to school."

"He's going to carry your books," Mimi repeats.

"Yes. I packed a dictionary, just for fun."

Another silence. Sora moves the receiver a few inches away from her ear in anticipation of the shriek she knows is coming. It's loud nonetheless.

"Sora! Oh my god! Tell me everything. How did it happen? When did it happen? Oh, I _knew_ it!"

"I'll fill you in later," Sora promises. "Bye, Meems."

It's sunny out, unseasonably warm, but she tugs his sweatshirt on anyway. Her sweatshirt now, she reminds himself. Her sweatshirt, her Taichi. So much has changed in the last few days.

"Oi!" Taichi calls from outside. "Stop doing girly things in there, we're going to be late!"

Sora grins; or maybe, not so much has changed, after all.


End file.
